Halloween Special
by breathing is over-rated
Summary: John wanted some fun, Sherlock, for whatever reason, comes up with a plan. Oh what fun our boys get up to. Written because I can, rated because I can. A bit of blood and violence but it is Halloween.


Halloween Special

**AN- **Hey guys, I know I've not updated in ages and ages. My laptop chose the perfect time to die completely and now I can't afford a new one for the foreseeable future. If I am able to update anything, I will but I'm making no promises.

Anyway, enough of bad news. It's Halloween and I just couldn't help myself, this is copied up on a friends laptop so forgive me for any mistakes.

Disclaimer: Not mine. The plot is mine, which is probably why it's a bit crap but there you go.

Warning: Blood, mild horror, suggestive themes

* * *

Halloween. The perfect night for mischief. And as if that wasn't enough, it was a full moon. That was the omen of misdemeanour on such a night. John smirked to himself, he hadn't had any 'fun' in a while now. In fact, with overtime at work and a crazy flatmate, he hadn't had any time to unwind at all for well over a month. The doctor moved over to his wardrobe and opened it, unable to contain the smirk. There was a cough from behind him. The soldier whirled round and came face to face with his taller, crazy-ass flatmate.

'I hope you weren't planning on doing anything tonight.' He purred lowly. 'You know that tonight is _my_ night.' The doctor groaned.

'Come off it, Sherlock. It's Halloween and I am going go out and make a nuisance of myself.' _God, that sounded posh_. But it seemed that talking like he was somewhat intelligent was the only way to get the lanky detective to listen to him. The consulting detective hummed for a moment then stepped closer, towering over the shorter male.

'Well, I'm sure I could make my plans accommodating, after all, I wrote the book on mischief.' Sherlock laced a finger under John's collar seductively. The doctor gulped, they weren't an item, they didn't go out and they _definitely_ didn't have sex. But Sherlock liked to test boundaries and he loved to tease. Contact was the best way to do this so John often found himself being molested by his flatmate. To get angry would, however, admit defeat and he was not going to let that happen. Ever.

'What would these plans entail?' The soldier asked. Sherlock flashed a Cheshire cat smile.

'It involves a group of idiots, two men, some outstanding costumes and the best night of your life.' Then the tall male whirled out of the room. John sighed to himself. When it was put in such an enticing invitation, how could he resist?

* * *

Lestrade hated Halloween. Kids used it as an excuse to rampage the streets, destroying property and acts of petty crime all in the name of the holiday. It was amazing the whole thing hadn't been banned yet. The greying DI looked to his increasing piles of paperwork, he was half wanting to fob them off on a younger worker and just go home, take the night off so to speak. But he didn't, of course he didn't. To do that would mean making someone else's life a misery, and for what? So that he could be plagued by hooligans knocking on his door all night? He was better off in the station. Suddenly, a man burst into the room, tumbling to his knees. The male was blond, not that it was easy to tell, he had red and brown stains (which looked suspiciously like blood and mud or dirt) covering everywhere. The man looked up, his eyes filled with fear.

'John!?' Greg exclaimed, running to the ex-army medic. 'What happened?' The soldier gripped at him.

'Sherlock.' He rasped, hacking a cough. ' He's deranged, he's insane. He... He.' The man coughed up blood onto the floor.

'Oh John!' A baritone voice called in a sing-song voice taken right out of Moriarty's repertoire. 'I know you're there.' The DI took a peek out of the window of his office. Sure enough, Sherlock Holmes was stood in the middle of the room. He wore his long coat, soaked with blood. In his hands he had a gun and a large knife. The curly mess of hair wildly shifted as he moved, obscuring his face.

'Johnny Boy! Come out, come out!' He called. Around him, the police officers finally came to their senses and began calling for him to put his weapon down, searching for their own before realising they were all gone. The doctor shivered and shakily stood up.

'I have to go out there.' He coughed. Greg held him back.

'NO. He'll kill you.' He hissed.

'He'll kill everyone else if I don't. Besides, I'm bleeding, chances are it's too far gone by now.' The soldier struggled and opened the door, breathing heavily as he limped out into the open.

'There you are.' Sherlock purred, stalking towards his prey.

'Not here, Sherlock.' John pleaded. The detective halted.

'What?' He asked. The doctor choked, spitting more blood onto the floor.

'Kill me or whatever, fine. Just not here.' He answered, managing to look his deranged flatmate in the eyes. Sherlock nodded and gestured for the doctor to leave ahead of him. As soon as the man had turned around, the detective threw his knife, striking John right between the shoulder blades and burying inside him. Sherlock laughed maniacally strolled towards his ex-flatmate, who stared down at the blood billowing out of his chest. The detective gripped hold of the knife handle and thrust it deep, the blade tip poking out of the doctors chest. John looked in utter surprise at the bloodstained foreign metal protruding out of him and fell to his knees, blood now pouring out of his mouth as he gurgled his last breaths of air, Sherlock's laugh ringing inside his head as he past from the land of the living. The detective smiled almost ruefully and he stroked the doctors face.

'It was fun while it lasted.' He hummed, looking into the dull eyes. When the body finally became limp, he hoisted he blond over his shoulder, winked at Lestrade, and left the room with John's blood dripping from his coat in his wake.

* * *

The two men barely got round the corner before they burst into laughter. John felt the tears stream down his face as he laughed uncontrollably. Sherlock's smile was so gleeful that the doctor was sure he'd only seen it when the man had found and solved a particularly difficult case. They leaned against each other as they tried desperately to regain their composure.

'We're not done yet. We still need to go onto stage two. I'm sorry John, but you are going to have to be completely blank.' He paused for a second. 'Perfect.' He said with a snigger. The doctor punched him lightly.

'Very funny.' He growled. Then they were running again.

* * *

It took fifteen minutes for Lestrade to gather his squadron together. The police were a wreck. He felt he should involve the higher people but to do that would admit what they had been doing all these years, allowing an unqualified, ex-druggie (he hoped the 'ex' still applied) on cases. They couldn't do that. The weapons were nowhere to be found. Not only that but every police officer he had was scared shitless. Well they _had_ just seen a man, a very good man, get murdered in front of them was... it was a lot to take in. And now they had to stop that man from killing again. The Yarders filed out and headed off down the street, following the trail of blood down the street.

Sherlock smiled when they found him, right outside his flat. The evil glint in his eye sent a shiver down every officers spine and they shifted, trying to stop the natural instinct to flee.

'You should have just left me to my work, Lestrade.' Sherlock said with a sad smile. 'It would have been so much better for you if you had just let it be. But I guess you just couldn't do that, could you? You have to be righteous. Shame really.' The detective clicked and a glint of metal appeared behind him. The Yarders gasped as a stitched together John Watson walked out in deliberate movements. The detective smiled and cupped the dead doctors face the way a mother would to her child.

'Do you like it? I needed a body of his height to test out my latest experiment. Shame I had to kill him first but a person can't have two consciousness inside them, it would drive them insane.' He laughed at his own personal joke and suddenly turned to Lestrade.

'Leave now.' He growled. 'You don't need to lose your life over this.' The DI gulped and stood his ground. The detective chuckled to himself then nodded at his doctor. Without warning, John fired at each of them, hitting each target perfectly on the neck. Sherlock stood over Lestrade as he fell into unconsciousness.

'Sweet dreams.' He purred darkly.

* * *

Once each officer was out for the count, the doctor and the detective brought Mrs Hudson's car that they had 'borrowed' and carefully shoved them all inside. Once all the people were secured, they drove over to Scotland Yard and bundled each officer back inside the building, leaving some on the floor and some at their various desks. They gave passing smirks then quickly made their way back to the car and drove home, unable to stop the fits of giggles that arose every time a dressed up child passed by the car.

* * *

The next morning, Sherlock and John were called into the office. John decided that he would wait down in the lobby for a while, just to scare them a little. Sherlock swaggered into the office and was immediately surrounded by police officers, each who had miraculously found the weapon they had seemingly lost the night before.

'Where is John?' Lestrade asked. Sherlock smirked.

'I'm here, what's all the fuss?' John asked, strolling in. 'Oh for Gods sake, Sherlock. What the hell did you do now?' The detective shrugged.

'I have no idea, John.' He hummed, 'They just pointed guns at me. Seem pretty scared too. Mind you, it doesn't take much to spook such mindless idiots.' John chuckled.

'Hey, I'm one of those _mindless idiots_, I'd prefer if you didn't refer to us like that.' The doctor answered, giving a soft tap. The DI raised his eyebrows.

'Where were you two last night?' He asked sternly. Sherlock and John exchanged glances.

'Here and there.' John answered with a shrug. Sherlock let a finger trail across the man's collarbone.

'If you count my room and your room as _here _and _there_.' He hummed. Lestrade blanched, his face turning pale, along with every other officer that had got what the consulting detective was saying. That was _gross. _John blushed, the top of his ears turning red as well as his cheeks and neck.

The Baker Street boys were all but thrown out onto the street. They linked arms and strolled down the street back to their house, only bursting into laughter when they were far away from the Yard. John smiled happily as he playfully punched his flatmate in the shoulder.

'The next time that you have a crazy-ass, probably gonna get us both killed, scheme, God you have to let me in on it. That was the best trick I have_ ever _pulled.'

* * *

**AN- **See, now that is a Halloween trick. Well this has been fun, now I have to go back to my computerless days. Oh laptop, why have you forsaken me?

B  
x


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